


Salvagings

by beautreebean



Category: The Handmaid's Tale (TV), The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood, The Testaments - Margaret Atwood
Genre: One Shot, chapter 42- the salvagings, from aunt lydia's pov, just inspo from her narrative voice in the testaments, no spoilers for the testaments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:07:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23427472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautreebean/pseuds/beautreebean
Summary: short one shot from Aunt Lydia's pov from the salvagings in chapter 42. Originally written for a college thing so it is a little shorter than normal.
Kudos: 2





	Salvagings

**Author's Note:**

> henlo!! I will get round to finishing Eye On You but I wrote this for a college homework piece, and actually really enjoyed it so I thought i would publish it on here too. please leave a comment :)))

I wear my usual brown-coloured uniform, it hasn’t changed much from my days teaching at The Rachel and Leah Centre. A taser has replaced the cattle prod, they found it to be more effective at assuring the compliance of the girls. It’s more feared, perhaps because of its previous associations. I remember the police officers would carry them around their belt if a parent had been detained and brought to court. They wore theirs for protection though. I wear mine for my failings.

I stride with the other Aunts towards the grey, decaying building. It used to be one of the university rooms, although I never had any reason to come to this side of the campus when I attended, it was for the more diverse people. I stuck to the libraries, church, and my room. What they had become now, I had no idea. The curtains were replaced by long black sheets of what I presumed was paper, with the symbol of the Eye in the centre. Perhaps they knocked down all the walls inside, making all the dorms one massive meeting room? I’m not sure. But it’s not for me to think about.

The bell had tolled this morning, and we were told about today’s Salvagings. The girls are told the day prior, so their households can prepare. I’ve been assigned to a new district, and my first day: leading a Salvaging. There’s no need for first impressions here because they already know everything about you. Still, it’s important to remain confident. 

“Good afternoon ladies.” I stood on the podium, speaking directly into the microphone. Wives joined the Handmaids, although sat on fold-up chairs and not on the mass-produced ‘faith’ cushions. The girls were watching me, I could tell a few of them remembered me from their re-education. They peered among each other, checking who else could recall my existence _. We are all aware of the most unfortunate circumstances that bring us all here together on this beautiful, blessed morning,_ I say, despite being aware only a few of the girls are paying attention. I know what they’re thinking.

_Who are they? What have they done?_

They will never know. Never get the information they’re after.

None of it.

“The Salvagings will proceed without further ado,” I announce, looking not at the girls, but to the ones about to be strung up like chickens. It seldom fails to shock me when I hear of the crimes these women commit. Didn’t we teach them better? They must do it because I failed them. My words, our words, our teachings weren’t strong enough. “Ofcharles,” I say regretfully. Some of the Wives behind me begin to sniffle, and I have to cover the microphone. They need to be stronger. Ofcharles is drugged. The leaders have been doing it for years. It’s more economically effective, they spend less time on television and therefore it means more time for us to be sharing our actual message – God is rewarding _us_ with children. _We_ are doing what’s right.

I place my other hand over my chest and the girls' copy. They pull the rope, and Ofcharles is left flopping like an oxygen-starved salmon.


End file.
